


Holding Out for A Hero

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, HP: EWE, M/M, Mutual Pining, Rimming, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:03:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5306672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> Even as he says no, Harry’s hands push into Teddy’s hair.  Even as he protests, his lips connect with Teddy’s.  Before Teddy can offer any reassurance his heart’s thumping wildly in his chest and Harry Potter’s kissing him as if there’s no tomorrow.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Out for A Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Torino10154's Blow Job Challenge. Title and fic inspired by all the pop music.

**Teddy**

In every other way, it’s a perfectly ordinary Sunday.

There’s beef roasting in the oven, and Teddy’s making the batter for the Yorkshire puddings because the best part of a Sunday roast is definitely the trimmings. Harry’s cocking up the gravy as usual, and Teddy’s telling him there’ll be lumps if he’s not careful. No one wants lumpy gravy.

“You’re buggering it up. Again.” 

“Am I?” Harry knows he is. The gravy’s a bloody mess. 

“You’re going to have to start again.”

“It’s fine.” Harry peers into the saucepan and frowns. “I think.”

Teddy waves his wand and a bottle of beer lands neatly in his hand. “I’ll just have to drink through it. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been forced to suffer lumpy gravy. Lumpy custard too, when you’re feeling adventurous.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Bugger off, Teddy. I’ve got a plan.”

Of course Harry has a plan. He always has a plan. That’s why there’s a horrible statue of him in the Ministry, and a grand painting of him in the Great Hall. You don’t get to be The Boy Who Lived without having some kind of plan up your sleeve.

Teddy doesn’t really give a rat’s arse about the gravy or the custard. Harry could serve stale bread and mouldy cheese three weeks on the trot, and Teddy would still hang out at Godric’s Hollow. He’s had the best year of his life living with Harry, not that he ever says as much out loud. 

Teddy’s pretty sure their arrangement works for Harry, too. He seems to crave being around people and now he’s on his own he likes having someone in the house. _It’s too big for one_ , he often says and he gets this sad look which makes Teddy want to hug him.

“It’s getting to be a bit of a routine.” Harry’s cheeks are flushed from the heat of the stove and he murmurs something under his breath that Teddy pretends not to hear. Magic. That should do the trick. 

“What is?”

“This. Sunday roasts and bottles of ale.” Harry leaves the spoon stirring the gravy and reaches for his beer. He takes a swig, watching Teddy. The sleeves of his jumper are pushed up to his elbows, revealing tanned forearms. He’s got a brown leather band on one wrist which he’s worn for as long as Teddy can remember. His eyes flash behind his glasses which are (thankfully) a million times better than the round wire-rimmed disasters he wore when he was still married. He crosses his legs at the ankle and peruses Teddy. “I think we should spoil ourselves for a change. Why don’t I make pudding? Something with chocolate.”

It’s Teddy’s cue to say if Harry can’t make proper gravy he certainly can’t be trusted with chocolate cake. It’s his moment to note that Harry can fuck up gravy and custard all he likes, but making a mess of chocolate cake is sacrilege. Right about now, Teddy usually jumps in and takes the piss out of Harry. Harry takes the piss back until they’re laughing so hard their sides hurt. 

Instead, just watching Harry makes Teddy’s heart somersault and his stomach do peculiar, twisty things. 

_He’s so fucking handsome,_ Teddy thinks. 

And just like that, everything changes.

*

“Finished?”

“Done in,” Teddy says. “Completely and utterly stuffed.” 

Harry’s leaning over to collect the plates just as he always does, and Teddy catches the light scent of Harry’s cologne. His heart beats out a traitorous _thump-a-thump_ and he has to hold his breath in case Harry hears. His skin tingles and his body reacts with alarming speed to Harry’s proximity.

“See? I told you there wouldn’t be any lumps.” 

Teddy’s having a moment and it takes him a minute to realise Harry’s talking about gravy. Fucking _gravy_. Harry's breath is warm on Teddy’s neck. He’s standing close enough to hurt and he doesn’t even notice Teddy’s not able to breathe evenly anymore. Instead he’s proud as punch because he managed to whisper some kind of weird gravy spell when he thought Teddy wasn’t listening.

“I know you cheated.” When Harry moves back, Teddy’s breath escapes him in a whoosh and he stands quickly enough to send his chair teetering precariously. “Molly’s been giving you tips.”

“Yeah, perhaps she has.” Harry grins. His shoulder lifts and falls in a casual shrug as he sends plates into the sink. The air hums with his magic, strong and powerful. He shoves his wand into the back pocket of his jeans and runs his hand through his hair, giving Teddy a wink. “Wait until you see what other tricks I’ve got up my sleeve.”

Teddy tries to conceal the fact that watching Harry Potter wash dishes is giving him a hard on. “You’ll have to teach me.” 

“Anytime you want.” Harry finishes the dishes with a flourish. He grabs his coat and shrugs into it. It’s worn leather with a sheepskin collar, and Teddy’s taken the piss out of him for wearing it at least a hundred and fifty times before.

“Are we going out?” Teddy tries to keep his voice light as Harry turns up the collar on his jacket and puts his hands in his pockets. “We could buy you something that didn’t go out of fashion in the nineties.”

Harry gives Teddy a look. “I’m meeting a friend. Do you mind? I’m happy to stay if you’d rather do something together.”

“Don’t be soft.” Teddy swallows back a wave of jealousy. He knows about Harry’s _friends_. They’ve lived together for long enough for Teddy to notice things, it just never seemed to matter before. “As long as you don’t mind me finishing off the beer. Bring back cake.”

“I’ll try and remember. See you tomorrow, Ted.”

“Yeah.” Tomorrow means it's going to be a late night with a stranger who definitely won't be good enough for Harry. Teddy watches Harry leave, trying not to show how much that thought hurts. “See you.”

*

When Teddy comes downstairs in the morning there’s a box of red velvet cupcakes on the table. They’re the ones Teddy likes best, piled high with cream cheese icing; fat and rich. He takes one and bites into it, leaving cream cheese on his lips and nose.

“They weren’t supposed to be for breakfast. At least have some orange juice or something. Andromeda’s going to go ballistic if she knows I’m feeding you beer and cupcakes all the time.”

“She won’t care. You know that.” Teddy wipes his face carelessly with the back of his hand. He studies Harry, who looks tired. _Shagged out_ , he thinks. His stomach twists again, and he puts his unfinished cake back in the box. “Late night?”

“Sort of.” Harry looks unusually miserable, and he shakes out that morning’s _Prophet_. “Thank Merlin it’s the holidays.”

Harry’s teaching classes at Hogwarts this year. It’s his way of taking a break from the Ministry but still offering his services to every witch and wizard that still wants a piece of Harry Potter – and there’s plenty of those. 

Teddy's heart does a giddy leap. Holidays mean lazy days with Harry in his pyjamas at midday, or zooming across London on their brooms. Holidays mean bumping into Harry when he comes out of the shower, and cleaning their teeth at the same sink, watching one another in the mirror. 

Teddy reaches out his hand and Harry passes him the pages of the _Prophet_ Teddy likes best, without Teddy having to say a word. “Out again tonight?”

Harry doesn’t look up from the paper, his brow furrowed. “Doubt it.” He looks up, eventually. “We could go to the flat. Watch some telly.”

Teddy loves Harry’s Muggle flat. It’s cosy, warm and in the middle of a street lined with coffee shops, florists and the kind of sandwich shops which sell jacket potatoes piled high with cheese and beans. When they go there they can spend nights on the small sofa with the lights turned low, and their feet knocking against one another. It’s bliss.

“Only if I can choose what we watch.” Harry likes some terrible shit. “Can I?”

“If you like.” The clouds lift and Harry folds his paper. “Want to go soon?”

Teddy nods, his heart fluttering against his ribs. “I don’t know anyone else that buys a flat just so they can watch the telly.”

“It's not just for that.” Harry stands and stretches, choosing not to elaborate. The motion reveals a tantalising bit of skin, which leaves Teddy’s mouth dry as he thinks about the other things Harry might use his flat for. “Besides, I thought it was the right time to get something that was just mine.”

 _You’ve got me_. Teddy wants to say. _I’m all yours, if you’ll have me._

Instead he waves Harry off and pretends to be more interested in the _Prophet_. “Better get a move on if you want to be gone soon. I know how much you like to hog the shower.”

“I’ll be quick,” Harry says with a smile in his voice.

When he leaves he’s whistling, and the knots in Teddy’s stomach slowly unwind. He takes the discarded cake out of its box again and polishes it off, turning through the news with sticky fingers.

*

**Harry**

“I'm a bloody idiot.” Harry closes his eyes against the water which washes over his face, the tension leaving his aching muscles. “A bloody _idiot_ ,” he says again, just for good measure.

He scrubs his body with soap and blinks away the shampoo lather which gets into his eyes. He's blind enough without his glasses - the last thing he needs is his sight further compromised by essence of papaya or whatever shampoo Teddy's decided to buy this week. Thirty seven is too old for losing your head and heart over someone completely inappropriate. Thirty seven is old enough to know better. Thirty seven is definitely too old for Teddy Lupin.

Harry wonders how he can still be so fucking stupid when it comes to matters of the heart. Not that he’s in love with Teddy. Probably. Because that would be more pathetic than his rubbish attempts at sweeping Cho Chang off her feet. He can have all the years of experience and a hundred different notches on his bedpost, but Harry still can’t seem to shake the way every last fantasy comes back to shocking blue hair and a smile wide enough to bring sunshine to the rainiest day. With a sigh, Harry steps from the shower and dries himself. He cleans his teeth and looks at himself in the mirror. There are crinkles at the corner of his eyes when he smiles, and his ink-black hair is flecked with small bits of grey. He pulls a face at himself and tells his reflection he’s a hopeless prat.

When Harry leaves the bathroom, Teddy's lounging by the door and watching him. The way his eyes slide over Harry's damp skin make his heart pound against his ribs. 

“All done?”

“Yeah.” Harry rubs the back of his neck and flashes Teddy a smile. “New shampoo?”

“Yeah.” Teddy leans in briefly and inhales. “Coconut.”

Teddy's proximity makes Harry swallow. “I like it.”

“Me too.” Teddy's always been close, but he's never been _this_ close. He's usually full of boundless energy and warm, quick hugs which make Harry feel warm all over. Now he's gruff voiced, lean and hard-bodied. His fingers brush Harry's arm and his breath catches for one heart-stopping moment. He's close enough to kiss. Close enough to push against the wall and snog senseless until he's putty in Harry's hands.

Clenching his fists, Harry moves away from Teddy and keeps his back turned. “See you downstairs. I'll bring the cakes with us.”

Teddy responds with a hum of agreement, and the shower starts again.

Harry tries his best to pull his thoughts away from Teddy under the shower, his skin slick with water. In the end, he gives up and takes to speaking to himself again - the first sign of madness.

“You're a bloody idiot,” he reiterates. It doesn't hurt to be reminded of these things. Frequently.

*

The flat's a mistake, of course. It's the place Harry goes with Muggles he meets on a night out if he doesn't want to face awkward questions about unplottable houses and speaking portraits. It's a place he associates with sex and on that basis he’s got no business bringing Teddy here. There's no memory of childish moments, no remnants of Ginny. There's nothing to remind Harry that being with Teddy is going to send him straight to hell. It’s a very dangerous predicament. Voldemort kind of dangerous.

“I’ve found a film I want to watch.” Teddy looks pleased with himself and waves a film in Harry’s face. “One with subtitles.”

“I hate subtitles,” Harry says, because he does.

“This one, then.” Teddy puts the DVD in before Harry can protest. “The one with the cowboys.”

Harry bites back a groan, because the last thing he needs is to watch Brokeback Mountain with Teddy pressed up against him. Before he can work out a reason to protest, Teddy’s kicked off his shoes and leaning against him. Just because he’s _right there_ , Harry puts his arm around Teddy and lets him lean in closer.

Teddy ruffles Harry’s hair and plants a kiss on his cheek.

The touch lingers and sends sparks of pleasure through Harry’s body. 

He clenches his jaw and focuses on the screen while the film begins to roll.

*

**Teddy**

It’s one of those perfect days, which Teddy never wants to end. Harry’s caught in one of those rare moments where the worries of the world melt away. His face is open and expressive as he talks, his words spilling from him with giddy eagerness. He’s full of excitement as he talks and Teddy drinks in every last syllable.

He’s tucked his foot underneath him and he leans forward when he’s making a point, dark hair falling into his eyes. He brushes it back impatiently. Harry loves talking about flying. The tension leaves his body and he’s full of energy and ideas. 

Teddy listens, laughs and offers his thoughts in all the right places. He waits until Harry’s laugh is warm and relaxed. He waits until Harry’s close enough that Teddy can almost rest back against him on the small sofa. That’s why he likes films. Films of heartbreakingly beautiful men falling in love, even when they shouldn’t. Harry has a lot of those. During those films Teddy can take every liberty. He can draw lazy patterns on Harry’s thigh with his fingers, and press close to him at all the right moments. He can listen to the _thump, thump_ of Harry’s heart and shift in his arms during the moments when Harry’s breathing becomes less regular – less even.

Teddy’s stomach twists as Harry tips his head to one side while he’s making a point. There’s a mark on his neck, like a freshly formed bruise. It blooms against Harry’s pale skin, rose-red and stark. Teddy swallows as unwanted pictures fill his mind. He can almost taste Harry’s skin beneath his lips, and feel the pulse of his blood pumping through his veins. He imagines sliding his tongue along Harry’s neck and feeling Harry’s hands clutching his backside. He sees Harry stretched out on the sofa, his eyes closed and his lips parted in pleasure. 

“Courtesy of your new friend?” He brushes his thumb against Harry’s neck. He’s not sure why he sounds angry, like he’s accusing Harry of doing something he shouldn’t.

Harry’s a shit liar. Even when he’s trying to be secretive, he’s the most honest person Teddy’s ever known. His mood shifts, and the bright light leaves his eyes. He looks away quickly. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not stupid.” Teddy drops his hand, despite the urge to pull Harry close. “I know about those _friends_. I'm not a child.”

“I know you're not.” Harry’s gaze fixes on Teddy, his lips set in a firm line. “Is it a problem?”

“I couldn’t care less,” Teddy says, with more conviction than he feels. Harry knows Teddy isn’t a homophobe. Teddy’s been out and proud for as long as he can remember. He pauses. “Does he make you happy?”

It’s a _he_ , this friend. They both know it because Harry’s not one for hiding away in closets, not anymore.

Harry pulls a face. “I’m not sure about that. It’s nothing serious.”

“I just think, you should have someone that makes you happy.” Teddy's voice falters and he clears his throat. “Someone that makes you laugh. Not someone who doesn't know what you've done - what you still do - for me. For all of us.”

“Don’t be soft. I don’t do anything.” Harry’s cheeks flush and his eyes don’t leave Teddy’s. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m perfect, Ted. I’m far from it.” He laughs, a bitter kind of laugh which makes Teddy cold.

“I know.” Teddy shifts closer. “I know you better than anyone. You have a cupboard full of shitty romcoms and you can’t make decent gravy to save your life. You can scratch every itch you like with those Muggles of yours, but they’re never going to make you happy. Magic’s in your veins. It’s who you are.”

The way Harry stares at Teddy almost hurts. He’s just looking and looking, with his shaggy mop of hair sticking up all over the place and his tongue tracing the line of his lips. Teddy inches forward, until his lips hover over the mark on Harry’s neck. He presses forward when Harry’s breath catches. He brushes his lips against the bruise. Harry smells good enough to eat. Strong, masculine and with the faintest hint of coconut lingering from his earlier shower. 

“Teddy.” Harry’s voice breaks and falters. His fingers fold and unfold into fists. He looks like he’s going to push Teddy back – like he’s going to sit him down for a serious chat about _boundaries_.

“Shut the fuck up, Harry,” Teddy says. He can’t help it. Harry’s too close, too bloody gorgeous and his voice has this rough, ragged edge that belies his arousal. 

“We shouldn’t…”

Even as he says no, Harry’s hands push into Teddy’s hair. Even as he protests, his lips connect with Teddy’s. Before Teddy can offer any reassurance his heart’s thumping wildly in his chest and Harry Potter’s kissing him as if there’s no tomorrow.

 _I can’t not be in love with you anymore_ , Teddy thinks. Only Harry’s actually kissing him, it’s the best thing he’s ever felt and he’s still not brave enough to really say it out loud.

*

**Harry**

Harry tries to keep his cool. There’s still time to stop this, after all. There’s still time to pretend that Teddy’s lips don’t set a fire flaming in his belly. There’s still time to pretend that maybe – just maybe – Teddy’s red velvet cupcake kisses aren’t the best thing in the whole damn world. Now’s the moment to stop kissing, take a break and talk about what a terrible idea this is.

But then Teddy makes a sound that’s almost like a mewl. He wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and presses the length of his body against Harry, and Harry is undone. He doesn’t hold back anymore. He pushes Teddy back on the sofa and lets months of silent desire pour from his lips onto Teddy’s skin. He murmurs his name, over and over, letting the syllables trip off his lips as he tugs at Teddy’s shirt and kisses a path down Teddy’s chest. He tastes Teddy everywhere – his neck, his armpits and back to his lips again. He’s so fucking gorgeous it makes Harry’s head spin.

“Christ, Harry.” Teddy’s voice is breathless and ragged. Harry unbuckles Teddy’s belt and he presses his lips to Teddy’s stomach. He’s got that soapy, masculine scent and his skin is smooth and hot. Harry runs his tongue over Teddy’s bellybutton and unzips his jeans as the room fills with the sound of rustling clothes and their breathing.

“I want-”

“ _Yes_ ,” Teddy says, without letting Harry finish his sentence. “Me too. _Please_.”

It’s easier not to talk, because Harry doesn’t trust his words. He imagines half strung out sentences confessing, begging and impossible to pull back inside himself. He keeps his lips on Teddy’s skin and pushes down his jeans. He smells divine. Harry moves lower, mouthing at Teddy’s boxers. They’re cotton and show every perfect line of Teddy’s cock. It’s glorious. Harry palms at Teddy’s cock and there’s that sound again. 

The air in the room is close enough to suffocate and heavy with the weight of their unspoken words.

Teddy helps Harry chuck his boxers and jeans off the sofa and pulls off his socks. “Want to see you,” he says, and pulls at Harry’s top until Harry’s in nothing but his jeans. “Want to kiss you.” Teddy smiles at Harry, cheeks flushed and his hair askew. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathes. 

Their lips crash together again and Harry’s last resolve crumbles around them.

*

**Teddy**

Teddy didn’t expect Harry to be this good at kissing. He didn’t expect Harry to be this in control, pulling sounds from Teddy that he didn’t know he was capable of making. Harry’s back making his way down Teddy’s body and this time he’s allowed to finish his sentence, largely because Teddy can’t speak in proper words.

“You make me happy,” Harry says. It’s unexpected and trapped between kisses which punctuate every word. It’s like a confession of sorts, and the hottest thing Teddy’s ever heard. He decides he likes this gruff, urgent Harry even better than the Harry of his fantasies. 

“Are you going to make _me_ happy?” Teddy says, wriggling underneath Harry and pushing up towards him a bit. It’s like he can’t say anything that’s serious when his heart hurts and his head’s full of hopeless _I want yous_.

“Cheeky.” Harry smiles and it lights up the room. His eyebrow arches and he brings his lips lower. His eyes never leaves Teddy and then his mouth is on Teddy’s cock – enveloping it in delicious heat. Teddy’s been sucked off before, but never like this. He’s never had someone he’s heart-stopping, music blasting, pathetically in love with look up at him with dark green eyes. He’s never had someone watch his every response or touch his thighs, his chest and his balls as if every part of Teddy’s something to be savoured.

Harry’s going to drive Teddy fucking insane. He takes his time, his mouth stretched across Teddy’s cock. He worships it, like it’s the most perfect cock he’s ever had between his lips. He leaves slick saliva on Teddy’s skin and his fingers brush along Teddy’s hole, making him hiss.

“Yeah, that.”

“Mmhmm.” Harry’s response vibrates around Teddy’s cock, and it’s to die for. Harry’s fingers rub over him again and then there’s a spell and one slick finger pushes inside him. Teddy pushes back against Harry, bucking into his mouth. He drops his hand into Harry’s hair, and tangles his fingers in the inky strands. He bucks and shifts and groans in a way he doesn’t usually do – the sound rough and jagged. It seems to spur Harry on, and he can _hear_ Harry fucking his cock with his mouth and magic hums in the room. How could any Muggle sleep with Harry and not realise there’s so much more to him than a fit body, messy hair and a come and shag me smile? 

Teddy’s approximately five seconds away from coming down Harry’s throat. He’s not sure if he should say something, or just do it. He clutches Harry’s hand with his free hand, and Harry groans around his prick. That just about does it, he squeezes Harry’s hand and his orgasm pulses through his body as he sinks back onto the small sofa and thinks that this might just be the beginning of the rest of his life.

*

**Harry**

Harry trails kisses up Teddy’s stomach to his neck. He sucks the bit of Teddy’s neck where his pulse thumps against his lips. He can’t speak just yet, the weight of Teddy’s cock and the taste of his come on his tongue. He doesn’t know what he’d say even if he could speak. Ideally, he would pause them right there until he could guarantee he’d only say sensible, adult things instead of whispering a litany of filth into Teddy’s ear and fucking him into the sofa.

“This is a terrible idea,” he says. Because it is, and Teddy knows it too.

“Horrible,” Teddy agrees. Even as he says it, his fingers wrap around Harry’s cock and their bodies slide together. He kisses Harry on the corner of his mouth, which soon turns into a deep, wet snog with lots of tongue. Harry can’t get enough of Teddy’s kisses.

“I’m going to hell.”

Teddy snorts. “You saved the world. You’re definitely not going to hell.” His voice lowers and he brings his lips to Harry’s ear. “Want you to fuck me. Will you?”

Harry swallows, his cock pushing up into Teddy’s loose fist. Teddy tugs on Harry’s earlobe with his teeth, and Harry can feel Teddy’s smile against his skin. 

“I shouldn’t.” Harry knows he absolutely, definitely will. “Because of the hell thing.”

“Doesn’t it make it more exciting?” Teddy winks at Harry and watches him with shining eyes. “You always liked to break the rules. Don’t tell me you’re getting boring in your old age. Nobody wants to be sensible, even if they live to be a hundred and twelve.”

“Less of the old.” Harry tries to glare at Teddy, but he can’t stop his lips from tugging into a smile. Teddy’s hard again, his cock pressing into Harry’s thigh. “I could probably fuck you.” Teddy wriggles beneath him, and it’s glorious. “If you stop squirming for long enough.”

“You don’t like it?” Teddy shifts again, his voice rough and his body loose and pliant. He runs his hand through Harry’s hair, his fingers stopping and toying with one of the strands. “I bet you’re filthy when you get into it. I think I’d like that. You, telling me all sorts of dirty things.”

Harry’s cheeks heat, wondering how the hell Teddy’s reached that conclusion. “I’m not going to give you a blow by blow account if that’s what you’re expecting.”

“So to speak.” Teddy laughs and he flicks his tongue against Harry’s pulse, stroking his cock. “So you’ll fuck me?”

“I’ll fuck you.” Harry rubs his fingers over Teddy’s hole and listens to every whine and hitch of breath. He brings his lips to Teddy’s ear as he pushes in with one finger, slow and steady. “You’re so bloody lovely.” Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that. He’d meant to say something filthy about Teddy being hot, tight and eager. He pushes inside Teddy with another finger, not wanting to rush this perfect moment. Teddy’s breathing falters and his legs spread out, knees up.

“Harry?” Teddy’s voice is rough and faltering as he mumbles through his words. He rocks back against Harry’s hand and swipes his tongue over his lips. “Harry, you make me happy too. Like…really fucking happy.”

Harry pushes his fingers deeper, curling them and sliding them out. He can hardly breathe as he looks at Teddy’s flushed cheeks and saliva-damp lips. He replies the only way he can, pressing his lips to Teddy and kissing him until he’s as breathless as Harry feels.

*

**Teddy**

There doesn’t seem to be a right moment to say _I’ve never been fucked_. Not when Harry’s stroking his beautiful cock and giving Teddy a fierce, dark look that has Teddy’s heart helter-skeltering in his chest. It’s a look that’s so ineffably _Harry_. It’s the kind of look he gets when he’s really serious about fighting for something he believes in. It makes Teddy smile that Harry looks like a hero even when he thinks he’s on the fast track to hell. He doesn’t know how _good_ he is, even now. Even after everything.

“Look at you,” Teddy says. His words catch and his fingers trace lazy lines along Harry’s chest. “So handsome.” 

Harry snorts as if he doesn’t believe it, and catches Teddy’s hand to kiss his fingers. He leans down and plants a proper kiss on Teddy’s lips, his fingers back between Teddy’s arse cheeks, slick, stroking and oh so good. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” The words spill out of Teddy before Harry can push inside him, because he feels somehow it’s important that Harry knows. “I haven’t done this before. I’ve done stuff. Lots of stuff. Just not this.”

Harry pauses and in one heart-stopping moment, Teddy thinks it’s all fucked up. He thinks Harry’s sense of moral duty is going to take over and he’s going to stop himself from going any further, as if they haven’t already gone far enough. Instead, Harry pushes against Teddy and leans over him. He kisses him until Teddy thinks he’s going to fall apart.

“Be sure.” Harry’s voice cracks and Teddy presses against Harry’s cock.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says, not for the first time that evening. The tone of his voice is almost embarrassingly revealing. He sounds so fond, breathless and eager for Harry. 

It happens slowly and all at once. It hurts and it feels like the best thing that’s ever happened. It takes Teddy’s breath away and he tilts up his chin so Harry can kiss him. They share desperate, rough kisses. Harry’s lips are red and slick, and he kisses his way down Teddy’s neck. He leans up and slides a hand over Teddy’s leg, urging his legs higher and over his shoulders. He _pushes_ and heat floods through Teddy’s body. He slides his hand over his cock, which is rock hard again. He accepts Harry’s kiss with grateful reverence and slowly, slowly, slowly falls apart.

*

**Harry**

They move to bed eventually. They shower together without speaking, and Harry takes the time to explore every inch of Teddy’s body. They use big fluffy towels to dry themselves on Teddy’s insistence.

“No magic in the Muggle flat. Don’t want to break the telly.”

“It’s not going to break, don’t be daft.”

“I’m not taking any chances.” Teddy holds his hand out. “Wand, please.”

“I don’t need a wand to do magic.” Harry hands his wand over anyway, and flops onto the bed. He’s exhausted and sated. He’s also too cold without Teddy and he pats the spot on the bed. “Come here.”

“Of course you don’t need your wand.” Teddy rolls his eyes, but joins Harry anyway. He traces his fingers over Harry’s chest and presses his ear just over Harry’s heart. “I think I’m in love with you. I realised that day you fucked up the gravy.”

Harry’s heart quickens and his palms go clammy. “Which time?” He says, trying to make a joke out of it. 

“The last time,” Teddy says. “It just hit me like a Bludger. Shit gravy, bottle of ale, I’m in love with Harry. Just like that. You were wearing green. You look good in green. Should have been a Slytherin.”

Harry laughs, Teddy’s words leaving his whole body warm. In truth, he doesn’t know how long he’s been in love with Teddy. Six months or more. A year. He runs his fingers through Teddy’s hair. It’s midnight blue, like the sky on the cusp of the evening. He closes his eyes, suddenly knackered. “Love you too,” he says, voice heavy with sleep.

Teddy mumbles something into Harry’s chest, their fingers twine together and the world doesn’t fall apart.

*

Harry wakes to Teddy kissing his shoulder. He’d never thought of his shoulder as an erogenous zone, but the slow progression of Teddy’s lips from his shoulder to his collarbone makes him rethink that.

“Morning.”

“Can we stay here? I want a jacket potato with cheese, and that cake with carrot and walnuts in. We can watch one of your films this time.” Teddy bites down lightly on Harry’s shoulder. “Or pretend to watch, at least.”

“I’m not in a rush to go anywhere.” Harry shivers as Teddy’s teeth graze over his nipple. “You’re awfully demanding this morning.”

“I’m starving.” Teddy’s stomach grumbles in sympathy and he looks up from Harry’s chest, his lips plump. He’s impossibly beautiful. “I’m starving but I don’t want to go anywhere.” His voice takes on a low, husky note. “Do you let people fuck you?”

Harry captures Teddy’s hand and brushes his lips over his fingertips. “What do you reckon?”

“I dunno.” Teddy’s brow furrows. “I hope so.”

Harry rolls Teddy onto his back and kisses him soundly, before murmuring against his lips. “I like being fucked.”

“That’s…good.” Teddy’s voice is gruff and he pauses before the inevitable question. “Can I?”

“Can you, what?” Harry knows full well what, but he likes teasing Teddy. He likes seeing the flush rise in Teddy’s cheeks. He pins Teddy’s hand over his head and kisses from his elbow all the way down, taking his time over a particularly delicious area on Teddy’s neck which leaves him squirming. Harry flicks his tongue over Teddy’s earlobe and whispers, his voice low and rough. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Shit.” Teddy’s voice catches and he squirms again. “Can I…fuck you?”

“If you like.” With a grin, Harry rolls onto his back and watches Teddy watching him. “How do you want me?”

Teddy chews his bottom lip, looking uncertain. “I want you to tell me how you like it. I think.”

The thought makes Harry nearly dizzy with pleasure and he nods. “Come here, then.”

Teddy obliges, settling over Harry. They kiss and their cocks rub together, Teddy pressing insistently down on Harry’s body. Harry slides his hands over Teddy’s arms and into his hair, just keeping him there for one blissful moment. 

After another handful of lazy, sleep-warm kisses, Harry breaks away. He looks into Teddy’s eyes and then shifts onto his front. He shifts up onto his knees and looks back over his shoulder at Teddy, who’s staring at him with his lips parted and his cheeks flushed pink. “You’ve done this before?”

“Yeah.” Teddy’s lips curve into a half-smile. “Not with you.”

“No,” Harry agrees. “Not with me.” He decides to make things easier for Teddy. “You like using your tongue?”

Teddy’s response is a half-groan, and a nod. He moves forward, Harry’s words galvanising him into motion. He parts Harry’s cheeks and tongues him, his breathing ragged and his fingers pressing hard into Harry’s backside. Harry lets the pleasure of Teddy’s tongue overwhelm him, until he almost can’t stand it. He clears his throat, his voice taking on a rough note of command as he drops onto his side for a moment to watch Teddy. Teddy’s mouth is slick with saliva and the look he gives Harry sends bolts of arousal through his veins.

“You’ll need this.” Harry hands Teddy the lube and watches him as he squeezes some onto his hand. The slight shaking in Teddy’s hand doesn’t go amiss, and Harry kneels up to capture Teddy’s lips in a heated kiss. He takes Teddy’s hand and pushes it down to his cock, wrapping his hand around Teddy’s fingers until they’re both stroking Teddy to get him nice and slick. “Yeah?”

“Fuck, Harry.” Teddy’s breathing falters and he nuzzles Harry’s neck. “It’s like I can’t get enough of you. It’s like…forgetting how to breathe.” His lips curve against Harry’s neck. “I’m not usually this useless. I’m actually pretty good at sex. When I remember how.”

Harry swallows around the lump in his throat and he tugs Teddy’s hair to pull him back into focus. He looks at Teddy in a way he hopes tells him everything he needs to hear in something other than words. He kisses Teddy then – hard, demanding and urgent. He kisses him in a way that says _stop thinking_ and a way that says _I need you_. He slides his hands over Teddy’s body, squeezing his backside and pulling him close until their cocks press together again.

When Harry turns back onto his knees, he looks over his shoulder at Teddy and nods. Teddy’s eyes darken and flicker with desire. Everything about Teddy’s face is so full of expression and unguarded _want_. It makes Harry’s heart pound in his chest. It’s like having been underwater for so long and, finally, coming up for air.

Finally, Teddy pushes into Harry. His cock slides deep inside Harry and rubs against all the right places. With a low groan, Harry clutches the sheets in his fists. He bites out requests like _harder_ and _fuck yes, just there_ and _faster_ until he can’t speak anymore. Teddy’s breathing comes in rough, heavy pants as he moves inside Harry. Harry’s name falls from Teddy’s lips in a short, desperate huff of breath and then he’s coming – long and hard – deep inside Harry. There’s a pause and Teddy nudges Harry onto his back.

“I want to…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead he moves down Harry’s stomach to take his cock deep into the back of his throat. Harry tries not to think about the fact that Teddy has definitely done _this_ before, and he twists his hands in Teddy’s hair. He holds back for as long as he can while Teddy’s tongue and lips work over every inch of his prick. 

“Can’t…” He comes before he can finish. 

Can’t hold back. 

Can’t stop touching you. 

Can’t believe you’re mine.

*

**Teddy**

In every other way, it’s a perfectly ordinary Sunday.

Harry’s doing something weird with custard, vanilla sponge and jelly. Teddy’s telling him he’s doing it wrong, and Harry’s trying to do magic to cover up the fact he’s sort of a horrible cook.

“It’s trifle.” Harry looks askance and stares at Teddy. “You’ve never had trifle before?”

“Nope.” Teddy pokes his finger in the whipped cream Harry’s adding to the top of the peculiar concoction. “It looks gross.”

“It’s delicious.” Harry mutters _heathen_ under his breath just loud enough for Teddy to hear. “You wait, you’ll be after seconds.”

“I like the cream.” Teddy wraps his arms around Harry and kisses the back of his neck. He smells like strawberry jelly and custard. “We could get up to all sorts with that.”

“Couldn’t we just?” Harry turns in Teddy’s arms. He’s got that dark, fierce look in his eyes that Teddy likes the best. He turns them and presses Teddy against the counter, kissing him hard. “ _All_ sorts.”

Harry’s always horny, not that Teddy’s complaining. It comes as a surprise to Teddy, the tricks Harry has up his sleeve. Considering he’s spent a lot of time shagging Muggles he’s got some particularly inventive spells that seem to work to Teddy’s benefit. 

Teddy takes the spoon from Harry’s hand and licks the cream and custard from the wood. It earns him a sound smack on the backside which goes straight to his cock. “What was that for?”

“Teasing.” Harry grins and nuzzles Teddy’s neck. “Licking things.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” Teddy says, even though he does. He knows exactly what he’s doing. “Harry?”

“Hmm?” 

“How long until lunch?”

“Half an hour. Give or take.” Harry’s lips linger on Teddy’s neck, the touch of his fingers leaving every inch of Teddy’s skin sensitised and tingling. 

“Well then.” Teddy puts down the spoon and then slides down to his knees. He unbuckles Harry’s belt and nuzzles his face in Harry’s crotch, feeling the firm line of Harry’s cock against his cheek. “Plenty of time. I’m going to suck you.”

Harry’s hands slide into Teddy’s hair and he lets out a groan. “You’ll be the death of me.”

Teddy smiles and slides his hands over Harry’s backside. _I love you_ , he whispers when he brushes his lips over Harry’s jeans. _I love you so fucking much._ Teddy keeps his voice low. He doesn’t like to get sentimental when he’s giving Harry a blow job. He has a feeling it might ruin the moment.

“Teddy?”

“Yeah?”

Harry’s fingers slide through Teddy’s hair and he tips Teddy’s head back. His thumb brushes Teddy’s cheek. When he speaks his voice is rough, and it sounds as if speaking physically hurts. “You don’t have to whisper. Not about that.”

“Okay.” Teddy leans into Harry’s hand and gives him a smile. There’s something weird about being on his knees when he’s telling Harry he loves him. “I do though. Even more than lumpy gravy and Yorkshire pudding.”

Harry’s lips twitch and his eyes shine. “Wait until you’ve had the trifle.”

Teddy bites back a laugh and unzips Harry’s jeans, breathing in the scent of him and trailing kisses over Harry’s stomach and down to the satisfying bulge in his boxers. He runs his tongue over the length of it. Harry’s hand tightens in Teddy’s hair, and Teddy can hear him quite clearly even over his rapidly beating heart and the _Harry, Harry, Harry_ which melts his brain and leaves him unable to think of anything sensible to say.

“I’m sorry I’m not strong enough to be without you.”

Teddy’s heart clenches and he pulls Harry closer. He runs his tongue over every part of Harry, until he melts against the kitchen cupboards. He tugs down Harry’s jeans and takes him into his mouth and deep into his throat. He tastes the slight saltiness at the head of Harry’s cock and breathes in his familiar, soapy scent. 

He knows Harry thinks Teddy deserves better. He knows Harry can’t look in the mirror and see everything Teddy sees. He knows sometimes Harry wakes up in the middle of the night, perspiring and frightened and refuses to say a word. He knows Harry’s stronger and more vulnerable than anyone Teddy’s ever known. He _knows_ Harry, inside and out.

He lets Harry lose himself in pleasure. He slides his hand down to his own cock, rubbing the heel of his palm against it. He could come like this, rubbing himself off through thick denim layers; on his knees sucking Harry’s cock. When Harry’s cock pulses in his mouth and fills his throat with hot liquid, Teddy swallows every drop. He struggles to his feet, loose-limbed and aching. He kisses Harry over and over, as rough, urgent hands open Teddy’s jeans and Harry’s fingers circle his prick. 

Every stroke of Harry’s hand brings Teddy closer to the edge. He whispers in Harry’s ear. There are words there in jagged sentences between _please_ and _love you_. There’s the sentence that tells Harry that Teddy’s exactly where he wants to be. There’s the sentence that says Harry’s his personal hero – not because he saved the world, but because when he kisses Teddy it’s like he’s saving Teddy every single time. There’s the sentence he cocks up when Harry twists his hand just so, and it cuts Teddy off and his words falter and drown in another dizzying kiss.

Harry’s response is to turn Teddy and lift him onto the kitchen counter. He fists his hand into Teddy’s hair, his breath coming in heavy, ragged bursts. The kiss is all teeth and tongue, and it makes Teddy want to crawl inside Harry and claw at his skin. Harry’s hand is back on Teddy’s cock, tossing him off with rough, urgent strokes. When Teddy comes over Harry’s hand, they both groan as if it’s Harry’s pleasure as much as Teddy’s. Harry pushes Teddy back and slides up his t-shirt. He runs his tongue over the stripes of come on Teddy’s stomach and he tastes every inch of Teddy’s skin as if it’s the best feast he’s ever had. 

With dark eyes, Harry looks at Teddy. He takes in every inch of Teddy’s face, pausing on his lips for a moment and letting out a slow exhale. Eventually, he gives Teddy a lazy smile and pulls back when they’re finished. He rakes his hand through his hair, in that awkward shagged out Harry sort of way. “I love you,” he says.

It’s just good enough that Teddy’s not sure he trusts his words. Instead he takes back the spoon and digs into the trifle, tasting layers of custard (not lumpy, for once) cream and jelly. He licks his lips and gives Harry the kind of idiotic smile that he can’t stop bursting over his face these days. 

“Not bad. Not bad at all.”

“You sound surprised.” The breathless, broken edge clears and Harry’s voice is as clear and confident as ever. He tugs on Teddy’s hand and helps him hop down to the floor until they’re nose to nose. “Anyone would think you’re not here for the cooking.”

“They’d be right.” Teddy kisses Harry and smiles against his lips just to make his point, even though they both already know.

_~Fin~_


End file.
